


everything starts at your skin

by Rhovanel



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Character Study, F/F, Fluff, Food, Innuendo, Sexual Tension, but only if you're looking for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhovanel/pseuds/Rhovanel
Summary: Aloy and Vanasha visit a market, and find that fruit breaks through even the most well-practiced facade.





	everything starts at your skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChocoChipBiscuit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/gifts).



Aloy walks slowly through the streets of Brightmarket. It’s early in the morning, with the sun just reaching the tops of the mountains, setting the snowy caps alight with a golden flame. It’s her favourite time of day, the dawn: that quiet moment when everything is still in the glorious realm of possibility.

Brightmarket, however, is not so quiet. Aloy marvels at the number of people already in the small market in the centre of town, haggling over fresh produce and cloths and all number of other goods.

Out of the corner of her eye she senses something small and round speeding through the air towards her, and she flings up a hand and catches it before it connects with her head.

“Nice reflexes, little huntress.” Vanasha’s familiar drawl cuts through the noise of the crowd, and Aloy turns to see her walking towards her. Well, walking is the wrong word for what Vanasha does: she swings her hips in a gait that’s part saunter, part prowl. She walks through the world like she has the right to be there, like every step is a claim and every stride is a challenge.

It’s a trick Aloy’s never been able to master. 

“Trying to kill me, Vanasha?” she asks, holding the object up. “I have to admit, I would have expected a bit more subtlety.”

Vanasha smirks. “Of course, flinging projectiles at people’s heads on a crowded street is my favourite method of assassination.”

“Guess you missed,” Aloy smiles.

“Guess I did,” Vanasha replies. She gestures at Aloy’s hand. “I thought you might like some breakfast.”

Aloy frowns at the object in her hand, the dark leathery skin dimpling slightly in her grasp. She doesn’t recognise it.

“What is it?” she asks.

“The fruit of the local harvest,” Vanasha replies vaguely, waving an arm at the fields beyond the town. 

Aloy eyes the fruit suspiciously. “I’m still not convinced you’re not trying to kill me,” she says, and Vanasha laughs.

“Well, why don’t you try it and find out?”

Aloy raises a hand to her temple to turn on her Focus, but Vanasha reaches out and grips her wrist.

“Not like that,” she says. “Is that… _thing_ going to tell you anything worth knowing?”

“Yes,” Aloy replies, pulling her wrist from Vanasha’s grasp. “It’ll tell me where the fruit comes from, how it develops, maybe how it survived-”

“Oh, Aloy,” Vanasha interrupts, taking the fruit from Aloy’s hands. “Always so curious.”

She pulls a knife from her belt and scores a cross through the skin of the fruit, then gently pushes the segments apart to reveal four perfect slivers of creamy white flesh.

Aloy is suddenly reminded of the metal flowers she finds on the hilltops: of a tough exterior that unfurls at the gentle touch of a hand.

“Go on,” Vanasha says with a smirk, “eat.”

Feeling somewhat self-conscious under Vanasha’s intense gaze, Aloy reaches out and takes a segment of the fruit. She looks back up at Vanasha.

“Are you going to stare at me while I eat this?”

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, you’re welcome to close your eyes,” she says with an arch of her eyebrow. 

Aloy groans, but her eyes flutter shut as she raises the fruit to her mouth.

The flesh is soft beneath her lips. It gives way easily to spread across her tongue, and a fresh, sweet honey taste fills her mouth. But just when she thinks she has the fruit figured out, a suite of contrasting textures and flavours seizes her attention: a fruity acidic note that undercuts the sweetness, and a collection of tiny seeds that add a satisfying crunch to the buttery flesh.

It’s honeyed with a bite of tartness, velvet with a crackled edge, and it’s one of the most delicious things Aloy has ever eaten.

She opens her eyes to meet Vanasha’s stare.

“This is amazing,” she says.

“I thought you’d like it,” Vanasha smiles. She takes her own sliver of fruit, handing the rest to Aloy, then turns and begins to walk through the crowd.

Aloy falls into step just behind her, taking the opportunity to investigate the fruit with her Focus.

“Oh,” she exclaims, and Vanasha glances over.

“I thought I told you not to use that,” she says with a hint of annoyance. 

“Sorry,” Aloy says automatically.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m really not,” she admits. “Listen to this: the trees grow well in inhospitable places, so they’ve probably survived basically intact from before the cataclysm.”

“Impressive,” Vanasha drawls. Aloy can’t quite tell if she’s being sarcastic, but she’s too caught up in her enthusiasm to care.

“They have deep roots which helps bring water to the surface, so they attract insects and birds, which encourages other plants to grow.”

She stops and looks at the fruit in her hand. “They bring life,” she whispers with awe, her heart soaring in her chest, alive to the wonder of the complex web of the world. 

Vanasha turns to regard her thoughtfully. “You really love delving beneath the surface, uncovering all of the hidden secrets underneath.” It’s not a question, and Aloy doesn’t know how to respond.

“Remember, little huntress,” she adds, turning to resume her stroll through the crowd. “the deepest layer isn’t always the truest one.”

Aloy hurries to catch up with her, pondering her words. “Maybe, but is truth the only thing worth being interested in?”

Vanasha glances over with a frown on her face.

“I mean, look at the fruit,” Aloy continues “A tough leathery skin that hides a softer core. And you're right: the flesh isn’t any more _true_ just because it’s more vulnerable.”

“But it’s still beautiful,” she says simply, looking Vanasha square in the eyes, "and it's still worth discovering."

Neither of them say anything for a moment. 

“Are we still talking about the fruit?” Vanasha asks.

“Were we ever?” Aloy retorts.

Vanasha’s laughter rings through the air, fresh and clean and smooth like the flesh of the fruit. She slips an arm through Aloy’s. 

“Come on,” she says, “If I get you some more fruit, will you spare me the lesson this time?”

Aloy looks up at her. “You like it,” she says with a smile.

“I like _you_ ,” Vanasha corrects, and the feeling that courses through Aloy’s body is sweeter than any fruit in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a little bite-sized treat for ChocoChipBiscuit, for the 2018 Chocolate Box exchange. Choco asked for Vanasha and Aloy visiting a market and eating fruit, and I fell in love with the prompt. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> The fruit is, of course, a fig, although probably a slightly mutated one. Everything I’ve attributed to the trees is entirely based in fact - fig trees are an incredible species. And there is nothing on earth that quite matches the taste of a fresh, perfectly ripe fig. 
> 
> The title comes from the Vance Joy song “Lay It On Me”.


End file.
